


Firsts

by sepsner



Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, First Meeting, Fluff without Plot, Oneshot, cyan i know you're looking. this is your fault, healing arrow, pumped this one out real quick because i got excited over it, tipsy flirting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-01
Updated: 2017-08-01
Packaged: 2018-12-09 21:39:47
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,261
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11677611
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sepsner/pseuds/sepsner
Summary: Angela Ziegler wasn't thinking she'd start talking to a near-stranger tonight. But when Hanzo Shimada struck up their first conversation, she wanted more.





	Firsts

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by this beautiful fanart! Big thank you to Khrysm :D  
> http://khrysm.tumblr.com/post/157192906317/healing-arrow-week-day-1-first-so-i-struggled?is_related_post=1

When Angela was convinced by her friends to go out drinking, she didn’t think it would have ended up with her left alone with some guy she had just met that night. But she found herself in that situation, as her friends clumped together and headed to the bathroom, and his friends clumped together and headed to the pool table. They would clump back together soon, in a pulsating, flirtatious crowd. Angela’s feet were sore from the new shoes she got just for tonight, so she remained seated. Why the stranger still sat beside her, she didn’t know.

His name was Hanzo Shimada, and while he was pretty handsome, he was also slightly creepy. Well, who would pass up the chance to not have an awkward hey-we-just-met-so-what’s-your-starsign conversation?

She wasn’t even looking at him, her attention on her phone, when he said, “Your name is Angela, right?” Oh, thank God, he wasn’t just going to stare at her all night. That made things slightly less awkward.

“Yes,” she replied, locking her phone, “what was your name again?” She remembered. Her best quality, she thought, was her habit of remembering names. You kind of had to, as a doctor, seeing several patients a day across several weeks, spanning several months, taking up several years. But she didn’t want a conversation as a doctor today. Just as normal Angela.

“It’s Hanzo.” She remembered. Jesse brought him with. He seemed reluctant to add, “I’m Genji’s brother.”

Angela did notice that Genji didn’t turn up today. “Where is Genji?”

“Oh, he isn’t fond of me.”

“Ah.”

Angela took another gulp of her vividly coloured drink. The conversation had died just as easily as it was struck. What a shame. Just as she was about to get up and excuse herself to the bathroom, Hanzo spoke up again.

“How about we play a game?” Hanzo seemed to realise what Angela thought of that, her face crumpling in some sort of disgust. The last time she was asked if she wanted to play a game, the questions involved ‘do you like anal?’, and ‘how big are your tits?’ (online matching was hell).

He laughed slightly. “It’s about firsts. Here, I’ll start, and if it’s not something you’re into, you can leave.” Angela was dreading the question already. Hanzo cleared his throat, building up tension. “What... was your first pet?”

Oh. “Oh.” Okay, Angela expected worse. So, it was a fine and normal question game, rather than a creepy pervert one for creepy perverts. Okay. “Well, my family had a big, fluffy dog when I was a kid... it was mixed, but I can’t remember exactly what the parents were.” She couldn’t help but smile. “It was called Porkchop.”

Hanzo smiled back at her, expecting a question for him to come next. Okay, Angela would play. She settled back in her seat and turned her body towards Hanzo. “When was the first time you went abroad?”

Hanzo took his time thinking about it. “I left Japan for the first time... when I was five. We went to America for a brief vacation. It’s what made my parents love it here, and why we moved.”

“Wow. How good is your Japanese?”

“That’s not a first question.” Hanzo flashed a cheeky smile, and Angela puffed out her cheeks. He didn’t say non-first questions weren’t allowed. What a cheat. “It’s my turn. When was the first time you dyed your hair?”

“I was seventeen and I dyed it purple.” They started a quick-fire line of questions. “When was the first time you got drunk?”

“At Christmas, when I was twelve, and my dad let me have alcohol. What was your first word?”

“In English, cockroach. What was your first regret?”

Hanzo suddenly went quiet. Angela could feel a shift in the mood. “I’m sorry,” she started, but Hanzo waved his hand.

“I was pretty young, and I wanted to impress these kids... they were all less cool than I thought they were. They were rough, and they wanted me to pick on other kids. And the easiest target, well...” Hanzo seemed to reconsider telling the story. Angela put her hand on his, gently, letting him know it was okay – he could stop if he wanted to. He closed his hand around her fingertips. “My brother. I got him to climb a tree with me and then pushed him off.”

Angela lightly gasped – that’s why Genji’s face was covered in small scars. It must have been the branches that he had hit on his way down from being pushed. Hanzo continued, “It took a long time for me to regret it. But now, every time I remember Genji – which is a lot of the time, it’s hard not to – it’s...” Angela noticed that Hanzo’s hand was slightly shaking. She tightened her grip on his hand.

Hanzo gulped. “So,” he was visibly trying to calm himself down, “what was your first job?”

Angela was in awe. He didn’t play off being emotional as something shameful, and he wasn’t pretending that he looked like he was about to cry. But it was obvious he didn’t want to talk more about it. Angela kept her hand on his. “I helped my aunt at her chocolate shop.”

“Chocolate shop?” Hanzo laughed. “In Switzerland? Are you a walking stereotype?”

“That’s not a ‘first’ question!” Angela whined. She could turn this back on him, too. “So what was your first tattoo?” Angela had put down her drink, and placed her free hand on Hanzo’s arm. She figured touching was okay, since he had welcomed her hand. Hanzo paused as Angela admired his sleeve, a long and intricate dragon down his left arm.

As she rubbed his arm (and admired his muscles – damn), Hanzo started his answer. “I actually have a smaller dragon on my ankle. It’s pretty stereotypical and cliche, but I think it looks cute.”

“Cute.” Angela, one hand on Hanzo’s arm, and the other holding his hand, looked into his eyes. It was so wild. She thought he had been slightly creepy just twenty minutes ago, but... Maybe it was her drink. Maybe it was the magic power of the ‘first’ game. She asked a second question, almost in a whisper. “What was your first kiss?”

“You just asked a question,” Hanzo replied, smirking.

“I don’t care.”

“I don’t kiss and tell,” Hanzo told her, and she noticed he was leaning in. She didn’t move away. Angela’s heart was pounding. She was hoping he would kiss her.

“Oh, you’re both gettin’ on well, I see.” The two of them were interrupted by a deep Southern drawl. Angela pulled herself away from Hanzo as Jesse returned, the rest of the group trailing along.

Angela forced an awkward laugh. “Hanzo was telling me about his tattoos.”

“I see,” Jesse glanced over at Hanzo, a knowing look on his face. Hanzo shrugged. “We should get goin’, yeah?”

“Right,” Hanzo replied. He put his bottle down and stood, before turning to Angela. “One more. When was the first time you got someone’s number?” Hanzo pulled a napkin from his pocket, numbers scrawled on it.

Angela couldn’t help but laugh. “This certainly isn’t the first time.” She took the napkin anyway. “I’ll see you around, Hanzo.”

“Hope to hear from you soon.” Hanzo winked.

Angela’s heart was thumping as she watched the man leave the bar. Of all the firsts she had visited and heard about over the past half hour, as she looked down at the napkin Hanzo had given her, she was looking to so many more in future.


End file.
